Disclaimer: I do not own Full Metal Alchemist.

Authors Note: Please enjoy this piece of writing, it took some time and is my longest oneshot.

Authors Note: AU, OOC, some content and refrences not suitable for children.


Letters To Mr. Grim

By: VeeCat


Winry walks down a seemingly long hallway. The apartment she shared with Edward's brother was on the top floor. She had a fear of elevators, and with that she always took the stairs. It was an older building built with red bricks. Often times she would sit in the courtyard at a two-person pub table next to a bed of flowers and rub her fingers along the wall when she was thinking. Her fingertips would have a red dust on the tips. Shes spent a lot of time in the court yard as of late.

With every step she took, there was a creep and creak. When they first looked at the apartment, this bothered her but the rent was a steal, so she got used to it. At one point, after a long day at the office, it was a welcoming sound. Now though? It was a real drag. She sometimes counted the steps, knowing she was stepping into a tomb. It wasn't welcoming anymore, it was just depressing. As she walked up to the door her foot went to far and touched it a little, leaving a small black scuff. The clanking of her keys being removed from the pocket of her zip-up hooded sweatshirt echoed through the hallway. The walk to the door felt like walking into the inferno that is hell. She inserted the keys into the lock and turned the knob. The seal the door always made gave way to a small wind the door swooped across the carpet.

Winry tossed her keys onto the door-side shoe rack, she kept them as to not lose them. She was so forgetful and Al was so busy he was losing his all the time as well.

Al was sitting on the old worn brown couch appearing very tired, nearly drifting away into a sleep, watching Netflix. The silence was so icy in the apartment, it pained them to look at each other. Each saw what the other missed so desperately. Almost blaming each other with cold stares. The truth was it was the questions unanswered and the guilt that flooded the air, taking away the reason to live. Making each day a deep sad struggle.

"I have to go get a pack of cigarettes, do you need anything?" Al arose from the couch, stretching an yawning.

"A tea would be awesome, you need to quit that habit." Winry responded, sometimes forgetting she wasn't really his sister. She felt like she played that role though, "You didn't use to do that, and its a terrible stench." She tried to lighten the mood with a chuckle following her lecturing advice.

"Please, not now bub." Al said.

Winry knew when his tone was flat, and solemn that it really wasn't the time. She assumed that currently it was feeling so soon still. 'Would this be every year?' She wondered to herself, not even knowing herself that you can't always suppress an event or feeling that already happened. Winry had no idea that feelings she was holding back were trashing relationships around her. It was pushing those that were also close, away. It was disgusting to those that didn't understand.

"Sorry, be safe out there." She looked away from Al, not wanting to look into his eyes for fear that she would feel the cold. "It's chilly out there today."

"Thanks, I'll grab a jacket." Al said.

Al walked into his bedroom and grabbed a plain blue jacket that lay upon his twin sized bed. It was dull in his room now. He called it, adulting. As did Winry he walked down that hallway, counting in his head every noise the old, cheaply carpeted floor made. Al was not afraid of elevators though and pressed the call button and entered it shortly thereafter.

The walk 6 blocks to the gas station felt like a long one anymore, being depressed he felt it almost dangerous to be alone with nothing more than thoughts. The brain is a wonderful thing, but memories are deceiving. Why does something so powerful retain the ugly in ones life as well? What does it do other than hurt the heart. Looking at the cold mid-day sky as he walked, only 2 blocks away now, Al saw how it was blue and grey today. Fitting for those haunting thoughts, those haunting memories. He often thought how nice it would to be able to just erase them from his mind. Like in some movies, except he didn't want to chase them down in an effort to piece his life together. No, to him that would be a blessing. Like a little bit of heaven in this hell.

He entered this small gas station in the middle of two fast food establishments as he did nearly every day. Like he did nearly everyday, he asked for his cigarettes with a in hand.

"A pack of Marlboro Lights please." Al asked the attendant.

"How we doing today kiddo, you hanging in there?" The attendant asked, her name was Tammy and she knew Al for a couple years now because thats about how long he had been a customer at the very same gas station.

"I'm fine, just another day being bored." Al responded, always suppressing the pain under the mask.

The world probably wasn't as stupid as he would like to think it is. Others that have experienced the sadness felt by any human at some point, was easy to read.

"You ever need to talk kid, you know when I work." Tammy said as Al swiped the smokes and change from the counter.

"Thanks." He gave a smile in return as he walked away.

Just like the walk there, it felt like forever getting home. It was almost more depressing, knowing you are soon to be back behind walls. Knowing that not a person is gonna break that barrier. Not again at least, even those that love you most eventually walk away. Everything runs its course, and everything ends. Thats life. Al was most reluctant to every go back home because he didn't want to be around Winry that much. Sure, he loved her, she was like a sister to him. She lied though, she lies every day when she puts on her dollar store makeup and wheres a smile. He hated seeing a pain he couldn't fix. Al loved helping people and making them feel like they deserve the entire world and that it isn't really that ugly.

Its beautiful.

Al walked into the lobby of his apartment building, it was oldschool. The elevator was actually scary, maybe Winry was right to be scared Al sometimes wondered. It was loud and the metal box shook on the way up. Out of laziness, the fearful rides in the metal box would most likely continue. He exited the elevator, and began the journey down the hallway. A postal worker for a delivery service was walking towards the elevator, and in passing their eyes met. Al got closer to the door and he stopped for a second when the footsteps stopped but the ding of the elevator never came after. Thinking nothing of it he put his key in the lock and began to turn it.

"Elric, Al Elric?" Al heard as a mans hand touched his shoulder, and he jumped what seemed like 10 feet and was given a fright.

"What the fu.." Al screamed and raised his fist on pure instinct and self-defense.

"Whoa, I'm just making a delivery and I didn't get a response when I knocked on the door." The postal worker, whose name tag read 'Roy'.

"For who?" Al pulled the door shut a bit, knowing Winry was actually home. "We have a post office box, mail never comes right to the apartment."

"Al or Winry Elric." Roy responded, "I just need a signature here and you can just take it." Roy passed a tablet to Al.

Al signed the tablet and accepted a thick manila envelope which he could tell contained a thick stack of papers, and feeling through the envelope it had binding. His heart turned for some odd reason when Winry's last name was spoken, he didn't even like hearing his own.

"Thats not her name anymore." Al said as the postal worker Roy began to walk away.

"Well it was when this was scheduled." Roy looked down at the invoice contained in the tablet.

"When was that?" Al asked, extremely curious. That was just his nature, he questioned everything these days.

"July 26th, 2016." Roy spoke as he looked up, "I have more deliveries and must depart ways, anymore questions can be referred to our main office." He handed Al Elric a copy of the invoice, as he almost forgot.

Al stood there in the hallway for 5 minutes, it felt like forever because his brain was flooded with even more questions, curiosity overwhelmed his brain to the point of a headache. That familiar clank of metal echoed throughout the hall once more, as he put them up to the door knob. He looked back one more time, but the elevator doors were closing before he could ask who sent it. Al turned back to the door and put the key in the lock and opened the door. He was met with a freshly showered Winry peeking around the corner. No wonder she heard nothing.

Winry had just exited the shower when Al walked back in from getting cigarettes and he was also holding a large drink. It was not her tea but she didn't say anything, he was probably lost in thought as they both were for months. She saw him walking into the apartment, looking down at what seemed to be some mail. What was it she wondered, that held her brother-in-law's interested so deeply?

"What ya got?" Winry asked, clearly very interested.

"A delivery that was sent nearly a year ago." He responded back, his voice was low and nearly hard to understand. She knew this meant his interest was at its peak.

"Are...you gonna open it?" Winry asked, curious as well. This curiosity was almost exciting for her.

"Yeah, I just want to know who sent it and why have it delivered now?" Al asked, rhetorical of course.

Winry responded though, "It might say in it, who did the sending." She inched closer, she often feared his personal space would be violated.

Winry watched, very closely as Al opened it. It felt as if he was going so slow. Why was the feeling in the air like it was? It was unexplained really, like the pair knew it was something worth being curious about.

The manila envelope's seal was torn and Al reached inside like it was Christmas morning, keeping attention as to not rip the contents inside. Inside this envelope was something neither expected. 49 letters, one key, and one CD-ROM. 49 letters from Edward beginning from June 7th, 2016 and one for each day up to the 26th of July of the same year.

"Today is the 7th Al, a year ago today he wrote this." Winry had the first in her hand, and handed it back to Al.

Al looked at the top of the first letter, and how it began was errie, and brought a chill to his skin.

Dear Mr. Grim,

Why do I feel like this, each and everyday?

I think I'm ready to meet you, to accept what I know is coming anyway. If it wasn't coming why does being alive hurt so much? My brain hurts Mr. Grim, every breath I take feels like I'm drowning in fire.

Al didn't read it aloud, yet handed it to Winry. It all came to him, he knew what he was going to do. Edward knew he was going to die on the day before his 26th birthday. All the things he said, flooded back to Al and it started to make sense. It made more sense with every word that was read.

Winry looked upon that paper and cried. She couldn't help but to let the salty fluid flow down her powdered cheeks.

I want to be saved, I wanted someone to throw me the rope out of this pit. No one can though, because not even I know whats going on upstairs. Its like when cold air meets hot air high up in the sky. The result? A tornado. Thats my brain. And you just can't end it. It keeps trashing itself the more days, hours, minutes, and seconds I am on this earth.

Edward used to say he knew he would die young, on a dark night just gazing up at the sky. He would speak about what he wanted at his funeral. No one would listen, because who wants to hear that? One day he would wake up with a smile, even if it was fake, because that day the self control was in check. Then the next day he hated everyone, and didn't even know what would make him happy. The damage he was doing was known to him, because he was watching as the monster inside consumed those he loved.

Mr. Grim, I know what I am doing is wrong.

Al didn't want to read anymore of the first letter, instead he looked upon the page that was in front. It described the CD as containing some songs. Just songs he loved, songs he felt had meaning to him and his life or those around him. The key was not listed, currently it remained a mystery. It did say that inside was the answers everyone wanted.

"Why this way?" Winry asked as she looked up.

"I don't know, maybe he wanted us to sit on it for a year Winry." Al all but yelled, "He wrote a letter every day for the 49 days before he turned 26."

"Thats not right." She said, holding back a fierce sob that was bound to come anyway.

"But he wasn't right, was he Winry?" Al was angry, it showed.

Winry knew that Al masked grief with anger. So she let him get in her face, she let him cry, and she let him break whatever was in his path. He would come to her when he needed. She just continued to hope that with each letter more answers would come. She was hoping that it wasn't her fault. Or Al's.

Everyday that I am happy, is another day I am lying to the world. I don't really know what can make me happy, and that in itself is robbery. I am robing my family from enjoying my presence, but when did they really?

Winry and Al both knew this was false, they simply wanted an Edward that didn't make everyone around him feel like they had a cross to carry. Carrying the cross to another's life was a cross to heavy for any one soul.

I feel like I've always had pieces missing. Like a defect in the creation of my soul. I really did have everything in life with all the love and support, yet nothing made me a truly happy person. I wonder if my past life was incomplete, or I came to this world to early and literally had no real purpose or legacy.

Winry never fully understood how her husband's mind worked, their thought processes were polar opposites. Yet they loved each other so much. In life, thats not always enough but we also won't know what it is unless we take a jump out of pure instinct.

I feel like from day one I lacked will power and personal confidence. I could say it was a personality flaw. But is it?

With Al at her side, Winry continued to sift through the letters. The first 48 letters were all made out to the mysterious Mr. Grim. The pair had not yet read so much as a word on the 49th letter, they were to taken in with anger, grief, guilt, and even curiosity.

"Why didn't he ever tell me these things Winry?" Al asked, and for the first time in months grief was evident. Winry could tell, just by his eyes.

"I think he tried telling everyone really." Winry responded, "Maybe he wasn't clear enough, and maybe we just didn't understand."

"How would I not understand my own flesh and blood, why would you say that?" He spat, rather quickly.

"I didn't mean it like that Al, there was something there we couldn't see." She calmly stated, "He was brilliant, but he was quiet really and I have no idea the weight of whatever guilt he was carrying." Winry was visibly trying to stay strong, but even the London Bridge fell. "I have no idea why he never told me what it is that he couldn't face." While her voice shook, the blond haired beauty managed to remain strong.

Al bounced back from his bout of anger because he actually understood what his sister-in-law was saying. 'I miss you brother.' He thought to himself, but he followed that with a chuckle. Memories flooded back as if the Hoover Dam itself broke free, and good memories they were. Memories can destroy you or build you, but thats a decision only you can make. 'Why couldn't Edward?' Al began to think, and Winry shared this very same thought. Al knew that he would never understand the demons his brother battled, that he would have never been able to combat the darkness within his brother and that he probably would never actually understand Edward.

These conflictions did not stop Al, Winry or other close family and friends from loving him any less that he believed in his own head. Winry did not, and probably never would understand fully why her best friend and love of her life never felt loved or that he even deserved it. She had always a broad understanding of Edward, but never that guilt. She never knew what that void was, or what this darkness inside was doing.

"I know often times I seem blank, but I miss my brother so much." Al stated aloud, but he had no tears running down his face. Al let out a brief chuckle and for just a second the world caught a smile.

Al was remebering a particularly fond memory, the first time he saw true excitement in his brothers eyes. He thought of how when they moved back to their hometown when Edward was 13, a monster developed and he just had this hot and cold behavior all the time. His brother somewhat kept to himself for awhile but infact picked up a couple of good friends. Eventually he even got close to Al. Winry had a light about her and Edward went to her like it was a calling. But even the flame from that dwindled and those demons began to reak havoc again. That one day though, when his brother became married Al witnessed a true happiness; he held on to that. He still had that curiosity as to why Ed couldn't hold on to the good?

Dear Mr. Grim,

These memories consume me like the black plauge. These awful and monstorous thoughts create this loud clamoring sound which clouds my sane and rational mind. I love my family so very much, yet I have sucked the light from their hearts for so long. I can't filter this pain, where is this darkness coming from. The madness confuses me and the darkness rains hell on those around me. Help me clear up this storm Mr. Grim, I'm to deep in the water to be saved and this drowning hurts more and more as the days pass; I can't see the sky and its so dark down here.

The more I try to erase and toss away my dark memories, the harder the pieces fall back down.

I hate memories.

This seemed to be such a dreary letter, more than the others at least. So much that Winry thought even she could feel the pain when he wrote these sad words.

"I never understood what Edward meant he said his mind was betraying him Al, but this gives some light to that mystery." Winry said, there was guilty aura about the words she used. "I hope he did not feel I ignored him, I didn't mean to make him feel that way." Winry spoke aloud, she felt guilty and it was evident.

"No, I think he felt lost along time ago and never looked for the way back." Al voiced his theory aloud into Winry's ear while he comforted her because he was honestly beginning to believe that his idol was extremly damaged, lost, and held to many skeletons and not enough keys. His idol being his big brother, Edward, was a mystery to all and loved by many. Sadly Edward could never register that love was real.

Winry was sifting through the letters and had some old pictures out. 'Why couldn't I break down that wall?' Winry thought to herself.

I began to retain memories when I was 4. The one thats strongest, the one that I remember the most, is when our dad died; he went to work one morning and I didn't see him again until I saw my first casket a week later.

Al held on to his memories much different than Edward. Al misses his parents, it hurt Al too even though it was much more cloudy to him due to infancy. The biological bond is rememberd for all of eternity, and has no age limit. Al assumed it was evident that they had experience a lot of grief and loss growing-up. He assumed his brother dealt with the same as well, but now he wonders if he was there for him enough. Al wonders if he let Edward down, he wonders if this will haunt him.

Dear Mr. Grim,

Will we meet soon? I think I really need you. I can't put into words these thoughts, feelings, and what feels like a drowning. I feel like I'm being betrayed by my mind. Theres always this paranoia. I am always afraid, I never know if I should run or stay. I feel like I've broken all the saints and only Hell is left. I tore down the spirits of good people.

This guilt is overwhelming. This pain.

Mr. Grim, they must know.

Someway, somehow, I will find a way to let Winry and Edward know after our meeting that they did everything right. I must let them know that I don't where this void began but they helped slow it. I saw light in them, and I was extuingishing it. My darkness can no longer darken the skies of others. Not hers. Not his. Not anyone.

Good people need to be shielded from evil; and the darkness.

Winry and Al both read this letter and indeed there was a feeling of relief, and a feeling of sorrow when they read it. Having answers helps anyone sleep at night, its like a dreamcatcher.

I hear these stories of people pulling themselves out of the depths of hell; which lies within their mind.

Why am I plauged with this inability to forgive myself, appreciate my family, and let go of the pain and begin to heal? Why Mr. Grim?

Winry knew Ed on a different level than Al. She lived with him and loved him on an intimate level; each knew the other like a roadmap. She would concur with her husband that there were times when he was a monster, unbearably angry and sad. His tongue would become a loaded syringe. While his words were devistating because they were husband and wife, there was an understanding there. She understood that Edward had been in some rough situations. Even those closest to a person can only take the heat for so long.

Winry was a firm believer that sometimes to save a person, you have to let them sink. They have to hit their all time low, the person that needs the saving must also learn to help themselves.

Winry and Edward had been fighting ferosiciously for weeks, the darkness was in full force and the monster had shown himself on numerous occasions. Like he could be often enough, Edward was being a monster with his words. For the first time in all their years together, Winry was stricken with fear and Winry felt like a hostage. She remembered how miserable she was that day, he was being so mean.

Dear Mr. Grim,

Are you my answer Mr. Grim?

Did I misbehave in my past life, to earn the punishment of being captive to my own mind? I have been trapped behind a two way mirror while the monster acts on my behalf. I just wanted Winry to help me, and make me feel safe. The pressure on my heart, the rage rose up and I petrified her with fear with my cries for help. I am so dark, where was my wrong turn? Mr. Grim, who am I really? What is my destiny?

Edward was always one that talked about soul mates, astrology, destiny and the like. Al wasn't, he wasn't even sure if there was such a thing as "soulmates". Al thought about that more and more overtime however, and he came to the realization that in order to coexist with someone for the rest of your life there has to be a spark there. To Al this meant that there was infact only certain connections that could be made to another human, it was practically fact.

Most of the time I feel like I was set up for failure from the start. I feel like all my interactions between my fellow species were star crossed; like I was only meant for tragedy. I can love people all I want but the returned favors come untrusted, undeserved, and I often don't even register it. I don't know what love feels like. The term normal is so broad, I mean what is normalcy? I just know "normal" does not apply to me. I see to many smiling faces. I see good fortune fall upon all those around me.

Where's mine Mr. Grim? Can you answer that in your cloak so dark?

With every letter read, and every sentence spoken between the two grieving souls, they came closer to answers. They came closer to fully understanding the complexity of Edward's inner war.

Winry wanted so bad to understand him for so many years, her tortured soul and kind heart also yearned for answers to put his younger brother at ease and ready to accept the events past.

I know that I am, that I will, and that I have reaped everything I have sowed.

'Oh Edward, what was your brillant mind doing to you?' Winry thought to herself, her heart breaking with every letter read.

"Do you need any privacy Winry?" Al asked as he looked over to Winry.

"No thanks buddy, I like you here." She turned to Al, giving him a pat on the shoulder. "I think we both need it really."

"Good, I am glad." Al responded.

Dear Mr. Grim,

What makes a person an actual person?

Is it the heart that pumps in their chest? Is it the blood that flows through their veins? Is it the cocktail of life events and cherished memories?

What makes a depressed person, depressed on a whim? A late reaction, or the memories that became nightmares?

Please Mr. Grim, tell me who I am. Tell me whats wrong with me. Tell me why my prescence is so toxic to the brightest and purest of souls.

Each day I see the misery in her eyes. The cross she carries, it's my soul. That is a burden far to heavy, and taints a pure and kind soul so fierce it almost isn't recognizable.

I consider myself a true travesty to mankind, as my treatment towards others is swift and biased.

Its dark.

With all the might she had left, Winry wished she could speak to Ed one more time. She may have just said anything to help ease his pain and save his soul. 'But would that have been fair to him really, would that be deception?' She wondered to herself. 'I really did love him, for real.' She thought to herself again.

She thought of all the times he would refuse to get out of bed, and all the times he refused doctors appointments. Winry wondered often if pushing him to go to those appointments would have given him more time on this earth but like all tragedies, other solutions aren't even thought of until the disaster is done and over with.

"Do you think there is anything I could have done differently?" Winry asked as she began to burst like Niagra Falls.

"Theres a hundred things we could have different Winry." Al responded, almost in a whisper. Almost with hesitation, 'You could have tried to help with the wounds.' Al thought to himself, he assumed this was the anger in the stages of grief coming damn near a year late.

"Am I to blame for this gloomy year, for the tradgedy that rocked our world...your world Al?" She asked, mascara trails running down her perfect skin.

"No, only Edward is." Al stated, and he was right honestly, "He could have helped himself, or kept trying." Edwards brother was becoming agitated.

"Lets read more Al." She suggested, and he nodded in agreement.

The only way to find more answers and know when they can finally process everything. The duo need to have closure, so their gloomy days can become sunny.

Closure is all a person needs to move on from a life changing event, and then the healing can begin.

In an enevelope much smaller than the original manilla one, there was the 48th letter. The 48th letter was also the last made out to Mr. Grim. 'Who are you Mr. Grim?' both Al and Winry wondered alone yet in sync. The suspense, and wonder filled the room like a pheromone.

Dear Mr. Grim,

Mr. Grim, in that cloak so dark.

Mr. Grim, my angel, my voice.

Mr. Grim, the monster under my bed.

Mr. Grim, with your black face and bag of bones.

Let us meet. The pain is so great. The sorrow overwhelms my soul. The living around me, my sweet loves, are damned so long as I am here. A cloud shall always hang above, and rain on their parade of happiness.

I am like a broken clock. I never chime, I never change. I was born to soak up all the guilt around me, to dry up all the hate. I can't do that job, my mind betrays me. I will fail to do this world any justice so long as my soul remains among the living.

In exchange for my life, spare my soulmate and my fellow brothers whom walk among the sunshine. Especially Al, as the darkness could have easily clouded his white as snow heart. Spare them of the saddness I bring them.

Today I am selfish.

Today I ask the voice in my head to harvest my soul and return it to its place among the damned. Harvest it Mr. Grim, with that scythe so shiny in that cloak so dark.

There was closure, but the pain was still among Winry. She thought it made sense, sitting in on some appointments of his. Winry wondered though, did Edward have a preoccupation with the fabled Grim Reaper? Or was he simply mad and delisional? She missed him so, but she missed the Edward with the light inside him. So when should she have said goodbye? Years ago, or just 1?

Al would forever hold resentment towards his mentor's decision to end his life via a bullet in his own pistol. Al did not condone suicide or anything of the like. It did motivate him however to research and study these sensitive topics. Al wanted to help them, to atleast save one little brother from pain.

Maybe someones son could be free from knowing the guilt.

Maybe their dad.

Maybe their mom.

Al would do whatever he could to help Winry heal, and learn to deal with the scar that would forever be there. He would do whatever he could for the entire legacy his brother left behind, the event was there but the memory didn't have to become a nightmare.


Letters to Mr. Grim

;An Epilogue;


Winry woke up the morning of July 26th, 2017 and began a daily routine that had been repeated time and time again. Days have passed since they read the 48th letter, and Al was not yet to read the last. The 49th letter, was addressed to the lady of the house.

To my loving Winry,

I hope this reaches you well and that you have begun to heal. You may be thinking I am selfish, and selfish I have been.

I took your beautiful spirit, I took that light inside and stomped it to pieces. I put you through worry and fear time and time again. I took that beautiful spirit, and tainted it with my wrath. I tained it with my darkness and saddness. I became angry. I became lost among the living not doing any living at all, but instead dying. Something consumed me, and I wanted to protect you from the years that are your future. I can not live without those that I love, but none of you can live so long as I fight to breath and wage a war I am not strong enough to win.

I am selfish.

The words that spew from my mouth are like poison, lingering poison.

My words leave an everlasting sting on the souls of the pure. I took an angel and cut their wings so they fell from Utopia; where they knew no evil or deception.

I am not fit to be the father of your children. A father is happy, and strong. Neither of those, am I. The thirst inside grew to strong, and I was not able to return the same that I was. I was somebody even I hated. I hated me, so much that loving myself was no longer an option.

Mr. Grim is here to collect, a deal is a deal and this deal was not struck lightly. You deserve more and better, for happiness seems so obscure to me.

Winry was shocked. She was sad, and angry. The devastation and damage left behind from the suicide of her husband was comparable to the force of the worst hurricanes the world has ever seen. Winry really wanted to know what sparked this darkness inside the man she loved.

In the closing of the letter it was revealed that the key in the manila envelope was to a small lock-box hidden in the closet in the hall, in it contained more answers. In it contained a deeper look into the mind of the troubled Edward Elric.

Winry wiped away her salty tears, and took a kleenex to her nose before finally grabbing her car keys.

"I'm going to pick up Allen." Winry hollered down the hall towards the restroom.

Hollering from the shower is Al, "Does the little guy need diapers, I have cash in the end table by the couch!" He yelled over the sounds of the strong water pressure.

"No I got it." Winry said, as she turned to the closet.

She wondered, 'Will this help me understand why my husband was so preoccupied with writing those Letters to Mr. Grim?'

Winry moved aside some towels and a couple dusty plastic totes, behind them sit a metal box with a single keyhole. The blond haired widow inserted the small key into the lock and turned, releasing the lid to open at full force.

"Edward?" Winry questioned, shocked at hundreds of letters.

All Letters to Mr. Grim.


Letters to Mr. Grim

By; VeeCat


Authors Note: Please leave a review and let me know what you think! Thanks for reading! -VeeCat